Wednesday, August 20, 2008

I just remembered something about some recent neighbors that made me cringe. Male, 32-ish, 3 kids. Decided, "Hey I think I need to buy a 25-foot boat to tow behind my Hummer." Toss aside any ruminating on the "Whydidyoujustbuythatgarishboatwhenyou'veneverlivedawayfromyourparentsevenwhileyou'remarried" question, as well as the "JesusHHowmuchisyourgasbudget" musings, because it's not my issue or business even though it's fun to pretend it is. Completely justified, however, is a comment on the name of the vessel: The Master Baiter.

There is such a thing as Hilarious and Good Juvenile humor, like loudly asking "What?" anytime someone uses the word "deaf" and seeing how many times the recipient of this treatment actually repeats themselves.*

*In the interest of full disclosure, I've repeated myself on both occasions that Mrs. Head has subjected me to this hilarity. I don't know anyone that has occasion to speak of the deaf or otherwise hearing impaired with the regularity sufficient to rend this humor tiresome (it's only happened twice so far in seven years), thus the opportunity to engage in such is a rarity and slays me every time.

There is also Godawfully Poor and Tiresome Juvenile Humor, as demonstrated in the unfortunate naming practices of the aforementioned neighbor. The Master Baiter is something that can only be funny during that special period in every teenage boy's life when reference to the penis by any means necessary begins in earnest, minus any wit or real humor. In a perfect world this phase is short-lived and phallic reference, while never completely leaving humor's arsenal, should become more refined and/or used sparingly. It also seems lazy. In all the years between 11 and 32, the boundaries of funny couldn't be pushed outward? Even a little bit?**

**It just doesn't seem right to do a post like this without mentioning Bob. The man has been a pioneer in the art of keeping junk humor alive and elevated for years despite persecutions inflicted by various small-minded, and I suspect very small-junked, people.

If it were up to me (I love this game), and if (for whatever reason) I was taken with the idea of a juvenile name, then The Master Baiter would never do (for all of the above mentioned reasons as well others). We must use juvenile and crude humor to make fun of juvenile humor, thus elevating it. At least, that's how the theory goes in my mind.

Therefore, the boat should be named My Cock.

The Dick Joke or Let's Talk About My Genitals or This Is My Awesome Boat If By Boat You Mean My Penis were also considered, but I know nothing about boat-naming conventions and the limitations (if any) imposed, so I went with what was the shortest and most likely to confound and outrage the general public.

Sunday, August 17, 2008

I broke down in the face of The Man. Some further research into my issue served to reinforce the knowledge that right and wrong, logic, and/or good sense have nothing to do with anything where the law is concerned, and that I should therefore just pay The Man his extortion money. No, I have not gotten sand in my vagina. It means simply that I would like to avoid the hassle and inevitable expense caused by a spontaneous ‘uncivilized’ reaction to inevitable injustice. There will doubtless be plenty of future opportunities requiring tangible resistance, but for now, preparations for a much rougher near future must take priority.

“But we’ve reached the bottom! The dollar is recovering! Now’s a great time to buy!”

Of course it is. Just like Russia was the aggressor in the latest Caucasian Conflict. Look, your show is about to start! Better hurry, you don’t want to miss getting downloaded with next Talking Point PR meme.

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I finished up Anthony Sutton’s previously mentioned three-volume study of Wall Street and Socialism, all of which were excellent. However, the standout among them was Wall Street and FDR, for the simple reason that for the last year and a half a great deal of the talk from the big “Progressives” is how we need another New Deal bestowed upon us by Mr. Hope and Change + Mo Better Democrats.*

Pick up any or all of these books, you will not be disappointed.

*and just to be clear, this sarcastic sentiment should in no way be taken as any sort of endorsement or favorable sentiment for the intellectually and morally twisted shills on the other ‘Conservative” side of the artificial political construct.

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More stories and pics of the Wunderkind are on the way. I’m thinking of shelling out for one of these and any input or alternate suggestions on this front are more than welcome. I simply want something that I can use and deal with quickly and easily as I’m not looking to get “into” video right now. I’ve always been pretty happy with Creative’s other products, so that one is at the top of the list for now, pending further research and input.

I’ve also got some work stories that need to be told. If I don’t get to it within the next few days, remind me to tell you about P-Tard. After three weeks I’m still blown away by the combination of OCD and Inability.

Work calls. I shall return. In the meantime, anyone that cares to can follow my shared items and comments here.